Maps of the Unicorn
by Silent Wolf Singer
Summary: Phyllis is young librarian assistant who lives right next door to Tintin. The two have a fair friendship, as they collaborated together time and again when it involves history. But a tragic event left a rift between the two. Yet Tintin and two other men have come to the library in search of the Unicorn. See how their adventures unite their friendship once more.
1. Chapter 1: Midnight

_**Maps of the Unicorn**_

_**Summary: Phyllis is young librarian assistant who lives right next door to Tintin. The two have a fair friendship, as they collaborated together time and again when it involves history. But a tragic event left a rift between the two. Yet Tintin and two other men have come to the library in search of the Unicorn. See how their adventures unite their friendship once more.**_

**Chapter 1: Midnight**

It was midnight and my feet hurt like hell. Never in my life would I expect people be interested in naval history this past month. At least I'm back home in my one bedroom apartment on the second floor that could be mistaken as a miniature library in general. As everywhere you go your eyes land upon a book either from a first edition or today's classics. Kicking off my heels, I stumbled towards the couch, before falling face first into the cushion. The smell of aged ink and perfume invaded my nose causing familiar memory of my father.

I sighed, sitting up to remove the rest of my outerwear. My name is Phyllis, Phyllis Lancaster. A young librarian assistant; working out her life as best as she can under today's economy. I shouldn't be complaining in what I have right now, but lately things have become boring. Then again, the last time I went on an adventure almost got me killed. You must be wondering how can that be. Well, my neighbor is Tintin. A renowned reporter and traveler who cannot get himself out of trouble even if he tried. His curiosity is far greater than a cat.

We met about two years ago. I had just moved into apartment three thinking I can carry up all my necessities up the first flight of stairs. Sadly I tripped on the rug falling backwards expecting a painful impact on the tile floor. However, there was no hard impact, but a strong collision into flesh.

"Easy, the last step isn't secured." A male voice said. "Here let me take that for you."

The man grabbed the box before I could reply. When I got a good look at him, he was a young man with fair skin and orange hair with a turf in the front. His eyes a vibrant blue and freckles dusting over his cheeks. Soon barking could be heard as I look down to see a white wire fox terrier. The dog coming up sniffing me.

"Don't mind Snowy, he's just sniffing you." The gentleman said. "Apartment 3?"

"Yes," I confirmed leading the way and open the door. "Thank you. I was taking more than I can chew apparently."

"No problem." He said, setting the box down then offered a hand. "My names Tintin by the way."

"Phyllis," I said shaking his hand.

"Phyllis, I'll keep that in mind." Tintin said.

I nodded as I thanked him once more. He generously helped me unpack as we got to know one another while Snowy relaxed on the couch. And since then Tintin and I have become good friends. He would visit me in the library either research on his latest story or a good book to read. If weather gets out of hand or news breakout of a crime or murder in the neighborhood with the killer at large, Tintin would be there.

Now things have become a rift between us. It's been about five months since we spend time together without having an awkward atmosphere. Just the occasional hello and basic light conversation as if were merely acquaintances than friends. There was a case that we wander into involving a murder in the park and led to a gangster rivalry, if not a lost artifact. I shuddered from the memory shaking the past behind.

Anyway the past few months have been hectic in the library. Never has the library been this active that doesn't involve university students prepping for an exam or essay. Lately there have been two gentlemen who have constantly come asking for the same books at different times. In the beginning a gentleman name Sakharine came first. In fact, he has been coming to the library for an entire year reading books about historical ships. The man being sincere explained he is a model ship collector, and does his research on collecting renown ships to make his collection complete. I find his passion entertaining as his scroll through books of mid-sixteenth hundreds of royal naval ships. Just last month he purchased a replica model of The Unicorn, saying the tales are enlightening to own.

Then another man came this past week name Mr. Barnaby Dawes asking for all of the naval royal ship dating to precolonial of the French navy fleet. At first I gave him the basics, but the man continued to come back every day more desperate than the next. And today I had to stay longer to a point I had to ask security to escort Mr. Dawes out. I don't know what the man's problem is, but I sure know he would be at the library in the morning talking nonsense about the Unicorn.

What both men have in common is a damn French navy vessel called The Unicorn. From what I could recall, The Unicorn captained by Sir Francis Haddock, sailing in the service of King Louis XIV of France. It was a cargo ship that dealt with fresh material from the Caribbean. What makes The Unicorn so unique was that it was attack by pirate. And not just any pirates, but the crew of Red Rackham.

I sighed, it was late and I got work in the morning. So getting up off the couch, I dragged my way to my bedroom, undressing and changed into a nightgown. Afterwards I sat at the vanity brushing my long brunette hair staring at my reflection. Though a nice scar could be seen along my left hand follow by a burn. Once prepared, I laid turned off the lights lying in bed in hopes tomorrow will be better than today.

As the apartment became silent that you could hear the occupants breathe in their peaceful. Although the sound of a typewriter could be heard in the background on the latest story for the following day gazette.

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**So I always wanted to do a Tintin story but could never think of a good plot. So I decided to toss in a character into the movie. Phyllis Lancaster is a young librarian who knows her history about books and how to repair them. You'll see her role in the upcoming chapter.**

**Thanks for reading and please review.**


	2. Chapter 2: Patron of the Library

_**Maps of the Unicorn**_

_**Disclaimer: I do not own Tintin**_

**Chapter 2: Patron of the library**

The alarm clock rang like a wild thing of annoyance. I groan, slamming my fist on the little button cursing on the name of the inventor of the clock. Like most of the population, I hate waking up early in the morning. But like any person, work calls no matter how much you want to sleep.

So with a deep breath, I got out of bed heading to the bathroom. After doing my morning routine, I dressed into a white blouse, grey pencil skirt, and a grey vest, follow by my tights and shoes. My hair prepped into a neat bun, and a dim amount of makeup to bring color. Once dressed and had a small breakfast, I put on my coat, grabbing my purse then headed out. Another day of books and organization in the library. Hopefully the new shipment of books comes in. I'm so eager to take a look at the incunable from 15th century.

When I was about to lock the door, I heard my neighbor leave his place. Instantly Snowy curled around my ankles snuggling along my leg. I chuckled kneeling down to pet the white terrier.

"And a morning to you too, Snowy." I chuckled.

Snowy barked rolling onto his back, exposing his stomach. I chuckled once more as I rubbed his belly. His white fur is so soft it was impossible to resist petting the little guy. Afterwards, I stood up seeing Tintin with an amused look while holding a folder of the latest story.

"Good morning, Tintin," I greeted.

"Good morning, Phyllis." Tintin said.

"I read your latest story_, King Ottokar's Sceptre,"_ I said. "I was worried since your apartment got bombed last month."

"Yes, fortunately Thompson and Thomson are all right and everything is restored." He noted. "Anyway, Syldavia was hectic from stopping a conspiracy group who were trying to overthrow the king by stealing the scepter."

"Luckily Sir Tintin came and stop them follow by Thompson and Thomson." I added.

Tintin smiled with a slight chuckled rubbing his neck sheepishly. I chuckled myself till looking at my watch surprised at the time, "I better get going. A gentleman wants me to analyze a parchment from 16th hundreds."

"That's interesting," Tintin noted.

I nodded; the best thing about Tintin is that he finds anything fascinating. Not even Detective Thompson and Thomson who would find interest in an old text. Let alone Brussels. Whatever is documented in a text book is solid information. If only people knew about other documents or simply diaries can tell a lot about a significant time period. So knowing Tintin being a young man of adventure and hard facts is refreshing.

Anyway, we went our separate ways. The weather appeared splendid, a nice sunny day with mild breeze to a point you need a jacket. I made a quick detour through the flea market seeing what new merchandise is bestow. What caught interest while crossing by is a ship model displayed in a glass box. What seemed fascinating is the golden unicorn as the figurehead on the prow. Fascinating.

When I reached the library, I quietly greeted the staff before marking my rounds of checking in books. Labeling books that had been returned into the return list and put them in their original home. Once that was out of the way I sat in the front desk reading the first addition of _The Great Gatsby_, waiting if a patrons needs help in locating a book or recommendations of literature to read.

"Is Miss Lancaster in today?" A familiar voice asked.

Somehow I couldn't stop the smile from lifting on my face. I looked up to see Mr. Sakharine. One of the libraries patrons if not a constant book borrower, for over a year he would come to do is daily ship research for the latest model to his collection. When Mr. Sakharine comes, he would immediately ask for my assistant. One English person to another, although my nationality is half British and half American. My father being a British archaeologist who served in the military and my mother is a socialite.

Anyway, back to topic, the past month Mr. Sakharine has been absent from his routinely visit. I consider he has been abroad or on an important business trip to not being here. And now the gentleman is here, I can't wait to serve him on his latest discovery of a document he recently own.

"Mr. Sakharine, tis an honor to see you again." I said.

"Indeed." Mr. Sakharine agreed. "How have you been?"

"Busy, how may I help you?" I asked.

"I was hoping you can look into a piece of parchment I acquired." He said. "It's very old and frail, and I wonder if you can put a date on it?"

"Of course, the head librarian informed me of your visit." I said.

I got up leading the way to one of the private rooms in the library. This room in particular is where books that had been damage and needed to be repaired or inspected before displayed. Mr. Sakharine followed patiently. Once inside, I pull out a seat for him by the desk where the equipment were. He appreciated it while I grabbed a box with the proper tools, and then took a seat across from him. I put on a pair of fabric glove to be sure the parchment doesn't get further damage.

"May I see the parchment?" I asked.

Mr. Sakharine nodded, handing me a metal cylinder. My eyes widen for the cylinder was made out of pure silver. The stamp on the end indicated the company insignia follow by the crest of King Charles II.

"Just looking at the cylinder shows character." I noted, carefully removing the case to retrieve the parchment. Afterwards I set the parchment on a sterilized mat, shining a lamp over it to analyze every detail there was an old message written in old English, in cursive penmanship, probably dating back to 17th century. The message, a poem said:

_Three brothers joined, three unicorns in company sailing in a noonday sun will speak._

_For tis from the light that light will dawn._

_And then shines forth at the eagles cross._

"So my dear, what can you tell me?" Mr. Sakharine asked.

"From what I could see, the material of the paper accommodates to mid-17th century, follow by the old English script and text. Although, what bothers me is the thickness."

"How so?" he asked.

"Well, during the 17th century, paper was thick in order to support the weight of wax seals and ink. However, this parchment is thin, yet holds the same weaving pattern, similar to artist paper that architects use. And if you look at the back," I said turning the paper around to show what I mean. "The writer put a lot of force that lead to deep indentation. Either he was hesitant of writing and concentrated hard on his penmanship or . . ."

"Or?" Mr. Sakharine asked.

"There are other copies." I noted, looking at the front of the paper seeing strange symbols on the bottom and the riddled.

"And what makes you believe that?" he asked again.

I paused, thinking about this. Talking my thoughts out loud. "If this was from the printing press, the ink would run, much thickness, and the calligraphy would be strict to Roman text. So the writer took this poem seriously to trace over the original text, and then write in ink. And if this poem is true, then there are probably two others. Since the poem repeats the word three . . . Sir, out of curiosity, where did you find this poem?"

Mr. Sakharine smiled, "In a model ship of The Unicorn. I have recently acquired Marlinspike Hall and the ship was part of the estate." He said. "The family fell apart on hard times, lost everything. They have been living out of bad luck ever since. We are talking about generation of drinking and irrational behavior."

"Sorry to hear that," I said. "Shame that people sells their treasures, especially those that have been in the family for generations."

Mr. Sakharine nodded though something in his eyes says he takes great pleasure of the misfortune of the family. I bit my tongue to scold him as I did one more once over the parchment of paper, noting three unicorn stamps on the top. I also tried to figure out what the markings code on the bottoms. Yet I couldn't comprehend what they mean. Within nothing else I could find, I delicately rolled up the paper and put it back in the cylindered, handing it back to Mr. Sakharine.

"I hope I've been in good service to you, sir." I said.

"Yes, indeed, you have been most helpful Miss Lancaster." He said, taking the cylinder and put it in his chest coat pocket.

Then I remembered something, "If it may help, I recalled seeing the model ship with a unicorn as the figurehead at the flea market."

"Where?" Instantly Mr. Sakharine was interested.

"Center of the flea market," I answered, a bit surprised of his outburst.

The man smile and bow his head as he got up from his chair. He doubled check to make sure he had the cylinder. I got up and removed my gloves, putting the analysis tools back on the shelf. Once that is settled, I escorted Mr. Sakharine to the main lobby of the library.

"Have a good day, sir." I said.

"And the same to you, my dear," He said.

With nothing else to say, Mr. Sakharine left the library and on his merry way. I on the other hand, went back to work to make sure all books are in ordered.

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**Hope you guys enjoy the chapter.**

**Thanks for reading and leave a review!**


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